He unzipped the fly of his pants, took his fat, dark cock out and presented it to her face. She was on her knees, her hands behind her, trapped together with a pair of silver handcuffs. She had long, dark blonde hair, pinned into a conservative, business-like ponytail. She wore glasses, white shirt, short grey skirt (only now it was lying on the floor behind her), black high-heels and white thong. She was slim, well preserved (yes, that word applies to someone in their mid-forties) and had a pretty face, the kind of pretty face you normally see on the cover of
Good Housewife
magazine - middle class devoted wife and mother of catholic upbringing.
His cock wasn't dark in a metaphorical sense, it had dark skin tone, which wasn't really shocking considering his visible latino origin. He was short and kind of fleshy. Not fat or obese, but visibly enlarged in the belly area. He was fully clothed: cheap suit, no tie, a pair of black salesman shoes. Bristle. Black, greasy hair. Forty-something.
She was breathing heavily. Watching his protruding rod. Her face expressed a mixture of fear and excitement. Or concern and excitement. Almost as if she fought herself not to be aroused. But she could not look away, her eyes glued to that sinful piece of what was essentially meat and tissue.
"Go on, suck it. Stop looking at it and suck it. Want me to stuff it in your mouth for you?" His voice growing impatient.
She looked up at his face.
"Suck it, honey."
As she opened her mouth, her lips smacked. She didn't hesitate, went all the way. She felt the shape, the wrinkles. Closing her eyes she started doing what he asked her to do. Silently, you could almost say: passionately. Her head moving faster and faster.
"Fuck, you're so good at it, Wendy. Oh, fuck... Yeah."
He grabbed her head with both hands, stopped her. She looked at him again, surprised.
"How would you like me to fuck your face, huh? Would you like that? I bet you would. I bet you're dreaming to have your face fucked right now, you bitch."
He started pushing his penis into her mouth. Her head was now static, immobilized by his hands. He was fucking her mouth with increasing speed, oblivious to everything.
They were in a large bedroom, furnished in a modern-art style, with dark grey curtains covering the window through which the orange light of the setting sun could still find its way. You could see it was a bedroom of someone wealthy. Or well off, at least. On the small bedside table there was a gun, a LAPD badge and a golden ring.
He stopped. Almost in split second, he lifted Wendy from her knees, turned her around so that her round ass was now pressed to his cock, wet and shiny from her saliva, and unbuttoned her shirt halfway down. He then forced his hand inside and started probing her large breasts.
Wendy was silent all the time. She only moaned once in a while, her breath constituting most of her verbal expressions. She was completely submissive, handcuffs keeping her tamed.
"You are a very sexy mommy, you know that?" He said, exploring every inch of her round bosom. "A very sexy mommy." He echoed his words. "It would be a crime not to fuck a sexy mommy like you."
He now grabbed her firmly and forced his fingers into her mouth, his other hand still surveying Wendy's breasts under the shirt. Again, she did not fight or try to protest. She closed her eyes and sucked on the fingers, like she did on that latino cock a few moments earlier. He then took the fingers out and moved his hand down, to the area of her white thong.
"And you know, I'm usually fighting crime after it happens," he said as he slipped his fingers behind the thong and felt the already wet lips of her shaven pussy, "so anytime I get a chance to prevent it, I always do." He finished and pushed both fingers inside her.
He fingered her for just a while, enjoying a series of moans she produced in the process.
He shoved her on the bed. Pulled her cheeks up and moved her a bit closer to the edge. His penis was all hard. All ready for action.
He placed himself directly behind Wendy, kneeled on one leg, leaned forward.
Then he pushed his dick inside her and started fucking her without restraint.
Wendy was loud. She felt his thick member squeezing past her tight cunt. That's how she thought about that organ now: not "vagina", not "pussy" - cunt. It was vulgar, like this whole situation. Like this Mexican or Cuban, or wherever the fuck he was from, L.A. cop, fucking her. She heard the clapping sound his body produced when colliding with her ass - another vulgar word she could think of. He didn't stop squeezing her breasts, in fact he stopped controlling his force and Wendy could feel pain at times. But she knew it couldn't be any other way. It had to be rough, it was how he was: rough and vulgar. And right now, like Wendy - loud.
Fucking and fucking, and fucking... They both moaned, consuming every bit of their act.
Finally he felt he could not last any longer. He felt her breasts, he heard her loud howls, he felt her wet cunt (he could feel a strange appropriateness of the word) caressing his cock. It was as if he was about to have the perfect climax.
As his movements were now extremely dynamic, he groaned loudly and started exploding sperm inside Wendy.
She felt his hot juice and that triggered her too; "Oh, yes!" she finally dressed her voice in words as she felt the sensation that provoked nearly every nerve of her body.
He fell flat on her and they both lied on the bed for a couple of moments, their breaths synchronized in one quick inhale - exhale contest.
After he took the handcuffs off her, she reached for a pack of Marlboros. She lit one, sitting on the bed still undressed and she threw him the pack.
